Arizona Allspice

by Lewin, Renee

  A bolt of lightning makes contact with the ground nearby. The sound is so loud that goosebumps rise up on every inch of skin on my body. “Holy…” I whisper. I hurry back inside the house. “Elaine!” I yell. I search all across the small trailer, tracking mud across the floor. She’s absolutely nowhere. Maybe she ran to a friend’s house. Which of our friends lives closest to me? Think, Joey! It takes me half a minute to figure it out because I’m still spooked from the lightning.

  I call Denise. Then Marisol. Then Brittany, then Tia, then Morghan. Elaine’s not with any of them. Finally, desperately, I call her house. Her uncle answers.

  “Frank? It’s Joey. Did Elaine get home yet?”

  “No. Is everything okay?”

  “She left my house and I’ve called all her friends and they haven’t seen her. Her truck is still sitting in front of my house, but I can’t find her. She must have ran out into the rain and gone some place. That was five minutes ago. Are you sure she’s not at home?”

  “You’re kidding. She ran out in this?” There’s a pause and then the sound of window blinds rattling. “I can barely see a foot past the window. Oh my God…I think I see her. She’s walking towards the house!”

  My stomach drops. She walked all the way home in this storm?

  “What in the world has gotten into her?” Frank says, his voice sounding far away. He must have been setting the phone down in its cradle because next the line goes dead. I give Elaine and her uncle two minutes to talk to each other and then I pick up the phone and call their number again. Frank answers. I ask to speak to Elaine.

  “Now’s not a good time, Joe. She hurt her knee real bad coming up the front steps and she’s really upset. I’ll tell her you called.”

  “Thanks,” I answer weakly.

  ******

  By the time my house is in view, I am shivering violently. My fingertips and toes are completely numb. I jog the last couple of yards as I visualize the inside of my warm house and warm bed. I reach the aluminum steps to the door and on the second step I lose my footing. My boot slips to the right, my ankle goes to the left. I grab for the railing to steady myself but it is slick with water and I can’t hold on. I fall down and my left knee slams into the edge of the step. I hiss from the pain and close my eyes. Exhausted, I just stay down, on all fours, sobbing. Then two strong hands wrap around my upper arms and try to lift me. I peer through the water dripping down my face. It’s not Joey helping me up. It’s Uncle Frank. What made me think Joey would rescue me? He’s tired of fixing all my problems when I have nothing to offer in return.

  “What were you thinking, sweetheart? Let’s get you inside quick.”

  “My knee,” I cry, “I slipped on the stairs.”

  Uncle Frank helps me to a chair, runs to the bathroom for a towel and runs back to wrap me up in it. “What’s going on? Did the truck break down?”

  “No.”

  “Did, did Joey hurt you? Did he put his hands on you?”

  “Of course not,” I sputter. Uncle Frank gives me a look that says he wants a real explanation. “I wanted to come home and the rain felt nice at first. I just wasn’t thinking, Uncle Frankie. I’m sorry,” I sniffle and try to breathe. I can’t stop crying and it’s making me panic.

  “You’ve gotta get out of those wet clothes quick. I don’t want you getting sick.” He helps me limp into my bedroom. The phone starts to ring. “Get into some warm clothes and get under the covers,” he instructs. “I’m gonna get you an ice pack for your knee and some coffee to warm you up. I’ll get the phone.”

  I spent the next three days in bed; in and out of sleep, in and out of pain. I barely ate and barely spoke. I cried whenever I had the privacy to do so. My sore knee and slight cold came in handy as excuses for my pitiful condition. Miss Amelia dropped by on the first day with homemade chicken soup and a hug. I apologized for the way I disrespected her. She also gave me my glasses back. “Joey wanted to make sure you got those,” she said and that was all that was said about him. But I thought about him endlessly, so much I thought I might descend into madness.

  All my fairytale hopes for romance that I had when I was a little girl had been dismissed, pushed down inside of me and forgotten about for so long. My hopes were in a neglected dusty jar, on the very back shelf in my heart. My connection with Joey gave the jar a little shove towards the edge. When Joey gave up on me, severed me from him, it knocked the jar right off the shelf. I thought that the hopes, expectations and desires in that old jar had rotted away by now but…the jar shattered and out flutters every last one of them, as alive as the day they were formed. I’m in love with Joey. I’ve loved him from the beginning. That’s why Manny asked me all those questions about Joey on visiting day. My twin knows me better than I know myself.

  But just because I want him doesn’t mean I’m ready for him. There’s still a lot of anxiety surrounding the idea. The same anxiety that had me so distressed I couldn’t even give Joey the chance to prove we could work.

  On the fourth day without Joey, I finally had the energy to get out of bed. Uncle Frank had driven my truck back from Auntie Amelia’s house the day after I left it there, but I didn’t have any desire to use it. The rest of the week I kept myself busy by cleaning the house, trying out new recipes, organizing family photo albums, writing comforting letters to Dad and reading. I even dug up an old paint set from the depths of my closet and started sitting in the backyard and painting the desert landscape. They weren’t half bad. I just painted the sky the color of his eyes, the soil the color of his hair, and the stones scattered across the ground were his freckles.

  The high point of the week was when Marisol and Brittany visited. It was truly unexpected. I didn’t think they would bother to see me once they realized Joey wanted nothing to do with me. Not that I think Joey would ever tell them to ostracize me. I just figured my life would go back to “normal,” with everybody keeping their distance from me. Brittany got me caught up on all the town gossip and upcoming parties. She assured me Joey was going with them to the party on Friday and suggested I come. I declined.

  Marisol delivered my copies of the photos Denise took at Cesar’s house party. Two of them were of Joey and me. One was silly, with us flashing the camera devil horns like we were rock stars, and the other was a picture Denise secretly snapped of us dancing and smiling at one another. I tucked them into the journal Joey bought for me. Marisol suggested I come to her house for dinner, but I wanted to spend some time alone. They understood.

  Though I made myself busy, filling every hour with some new activity or chore, the days dragged by. Maybe it was because in the back of my mind I couldn’t wait for Manny to come home. June 2nd is the big day. Six more days to go.

  ******

  “What’s this I hear about you leaving my sister in tears? Uncle Frank told me she’s moping around the house.”

  “Now you wanna call me? I’ve been needing to talk to my best friend for weeks and you decide to call after I’ve already screwed everything up?” I almost yell at him but I’m still too emotionally exhausted to do so.

  “It’s not easy for me to call you, Joey. You’re not in my situation, alright? It’s hard to explain.”

  “Look, I’m not putting myself out there anymore.” I pause, remembering the day at the mall when I encouraged Elaine to ‘put herself out there’ to make friends. Good ol’ reliable friends, like me, I mutter in my head. “I’m done.”

  “Ha!” Manny laughs. “Who do you and Elaine think you’re foolin’? Plus, you can’t back out now. We had a deal. You are going to keep your end of it, man. I know she wants to be with you.”

  I roll my eyes. I’m starting to realize that all this ‘She does love you’ crap that I’m hearing from family and friends is just their way of keeping my hopes up so I won’t commit suicide or something. I am one more ‘Don’t give up, Joey’ from telling someone to go play in traffic.

  Frank has become my ride to and from physical therapy. He’s not as good company a
s Elaine was, but he’s a nice guy. I might just give the relationship he has with Mom my blessing. At my latest therapy session, my therapist Gerard directs me through the usual exercises that lately have become more boring than annoying or painful.

  “A capite ad calcum…” he begins in an official sounding baritone voice and waves his hands over my head and then my legs. I raise an eyebrow. When did incantations become part of my therapy? “It means ‘from head to heel’ in Latin,” he explains and starts again. “A capite ad calcum, I now pronounce you…fit for the field.”

  “Are you serious?” I grin. I jump up, give him a quick hug and race out of his office.

  “Don’t forget to warm up!” Gerard shouts after me.

  With my mesh bag of soccer balls and plastic cones slung over my shoulder, I jog onto the empty soccer field. I yank a ball out of the bag, throw the bag down and drop the ball in front of me. Smiling, I freestyle across the whole field: dribbling, popping the ball up and doing knee juggles, bouncing it up to my head, doing a head stall and then letting it drop back down to my legs to do some shin rolls. Finally, I start dribbling it straight down the field like my life depends on it. I’m running towards the goal full speed. My blood is really flowing and I start feeling an adrenaline high, even though I have no audience and this isn’t a match. I take into account the things I learned in therapy about my vision, focus on the ball, and I don’t let myself hesitate because if I doubt myself the ball won’t respect me and go where I want it to. With a powerful kick, I drive it right into the back of the goal. I howl victoriously and generally make a bunch of animal noises. Man, I love this sport! I laugh to myself and then start setting up a drill.

  I walk out in front of the goal and line up four balls on the six-yard line. I step back from the line and see eight balls. I groan. My double vision goes in and out. After a few seconds my vision goes back to “normal”. I also know not to always trust my eyes to measure distances now. I walk up to the first ball and count my steps as I walk backward to help me get a feel for the distance. Then I jog forward and start wailin’ on them. Number one goes in, two goes in, three bounces off the goal post, but number four knew better and did what it was told. The last ball rolls back out of the goal towards me. I kick it up over my head and turn my back to the goal. While it’s in the air, I spring myself up off the ground. I twist my body midair, swing my right leg up and BAM! The ball slams into the goal behind me.

  I still got it! It was the move Elaine referred to as my “awesome overhead kick.” It would’ve been cool to have her here to see it.

  I get home sweaty, sore and content. After I take a shower, I go into the kitchen where Mom is juicing oranges for tomorrow’s breakfast. I pick up one of the smaller oranges and slice it in half. I hand one half to Mom to squeeze and cut the other half into wedges and start eating.

  “Look at that soccer glow you have,” she teases. I smile as I suck on the orange. “Elaine took you to most of your therapy sessions. She would have been proud to watch you out on the field. I wish she could have seen you.”

  I chew and swallow the sweet and sour orange pulp. “Me, too.” I bite into another orange wedge. Mom looks at me surprised. A grin grows on her face. She’s been trying to get me to mention Elaine for days, but I wouldn’t say a word. I’m sure I’ve just made her day.

  “Manny is coming home soon. You excited?”

  “Yeah. Kind of.”

  “Kind of?”

  I explain the problem of Manny pressuring me to talk to Elaine again, sparing her the details about the verbal contract Manny and I have concerning Elaine. Mom doesn’t know about that. “It’s like I’ve been knocking day after day on a door that will never open. I have this compulsion to keep knocking and knocking until I’m flat out banging my head against the door and she won’t budge. Even a fool like me has his limits and I wish Manny would back off.”

  “You’re not a fool, baby. Obviously there is something between you and Elaine. She didn’t pretend to be your girlfriend for that long just for my sake. I’ve seen the way you two interact. I’ve also seen the way she is missing you right now. Honey, sometimes when the door closes in your face you’ve got to climb through the window. I wish I could tell you where that window is, but I know you’ll find it soon. It might take a little more time. She doesn’t see the good side of things as clearly as you do, so it’s hard for her to believe her dreams could come true.” Mom stands on her tip toes and kisses my cheek. I think about her advice and realize that I need to tell Elaine about the dream I had in which her mother spoke to me. My dream. Our dream.

  ******

  “That Roberts girl was helping Raul steal my son Teo from me. My husband tried to stop them but Joey Kinsley put a gun to his head and forced him to allow the kidnapping.”

  The bartender blinked at Mrs. Campos. “Mhmm. That’ll be four dollars.”

  She scowled at him and pulled a five dollar bill from the pocket of her jean shorts. The bartender took the money and gave her the beer. She could hear people whispering about her at their tables. She gulped the beer and a little of the sour liquid dripped down the side of her mouth. She wiped it dry with the top of her shirt, smearing the Monroe mole she’d drawn above her lip with a black eyebrow pencil. She ran a hand through her short wavy hair. Nervously, she dangled her legs back and forth as she sat on the tall barstool. She kept hearing whispers across the room and eyes burning into her back.

  “Hey, how’d you get that black eye?” A man’s voice shouted at her. The bar went silent.

  “Joey Kinsley,” Mrs. Campos said before taking a swig of her beer.

  A woman in the corner of the bar cackled. Other male voices joined in laughing. “That boy ain’t touch you!” The male voice yelled.

  She swiveled around on her stool to face the drunken patrons. “It’s his fault my husband left! Him and that girl took my baby!”

  “Then call the cops, you crazy bitch!” Denise’s father answered from his table.

  “My husband will get arrested if I do. I waited ten years for us to be a family again. He won’t come home unless I get my kids so we can all be together!”

  “Shut up.” The woman sitting beside Mr. Rubio said loudly.

  Mrs. Campos shrieked as she hurled the beer bottle through the air at the lady. Everyone ducked as the bottle bulleted over their heads and shattered against the wall.

  “Throw something else, puta!” The woman threatened Raul’s mother. The bar exploded into a shouting match. The bartender switched into his role as bouncer and grabbed both Mrs. Campos’ arms and shoved her towards the door. She let out a guttural scream that confirmed the bar patrons’ insults that she was not completely sane. Within the grip of the bartender’s strong arms she writhed and snarled like a lioness caught in a poacher’s net.

  “I will fight for my family! I will do whatever it takes! Get off of me! Aaaahh!”

  ******

  The party room at Bartolo’s Pizza Parlor is packed with people buzzing with excitement over Manny’s return. It’s his ‘Welcome Home’ surprise party and he will walk through the door any minute. Frank is picking him up from the Pima County Jail. I’d expected they’d be back by now, but maybe they got slowed down by paper work. I’m fidgeting with my plastic cup of soda pop. I’m so happy my friend can come home and his nightmare can end. On the other hand, I’m nervous about how he’ll feel when I tell him I’m moving to Florida. Mom wants to move in with Frank into his condo in Daytona. It sounds like a beautiful place to start over. I could get my own apartment by the beach. I have enough money saved up for a deposit. Maybe there I’ll find a passion other than soccer, a passion that I can actually make a living from. Working at the PiCo factory is not my passion. It’s a job, not a career and I’d been lying to myself, saying I enjoyed working there, because I didn’t think there was anything else I was capable of.

  Of course I’m not going to leave for Florida before I finish my duties as captain of team Chupasangres. I want to win the final
s more now than I ever did before the accident. I used to let my personal life affect my performance on the field. I won’t let that happen again. I’ll also say one last thing to Elaine. I’ll tell her about my dream and the message her mother gave me. I’m not keeping my hopes up. I’m pretty much done with that.

  The amount of people crowded in this party room is grating on my nerves. At first Frank and Elaine planned a small gathering at their home, just a cookout with a dozen friends or so. Mr. Jeremy, however, convinced Frank to have a big party at the pizza parlor. With Mr. Jeremy footing the bill and an opportunity to treat the whole neighborhood to a good time, Frank couldn’t say no. I wish Frank had declined Mr. Jeremy’s nice but business motivated gesture. All the chatter is making me more nervous. As I take a drink of my soda I notice Elaine for the first time on the other side of the room. I start choking. As I cough the soda out of my air way, I watch a goddess move about the crowd.